Descent Into The Maelstrom
by Chaotic Sereniti
Summary: Angsty EdxRoy. Rated for Char. death and crazy!Ed. First WIP, so be harsh. Chap 8 is up finally!
1. Chapter 1

**Descent Into The Maelstrom**

**Maelstrom: (_n._) 1. A large or violent whirlpool, 2. A violently agitated state of mind or affairs. **

**Chapter 1:**

Edward Elric stepped inside the old abandoned warehouse, ignoring the dust curling around his platform boots as he walked. His eyes were wary, watchful of any movement in the darkness. He knew the homunculi were there, he knew they had his brother. He knew he _had_ to get Alphonse back, who knew what they might do to him. Especially that one, Envy…

He walked over old wood scraps and debris towards a door on the far side of the room that was partially open, and he could see a faint light flickering, like candlelight. He slowly made his way over to the door, muscles tensed and ready for any impending attack. The door creaked on rusty hinges as he eased it open, peering around for anything. His narrowed eyes found…

Nothing.

The room was small, the walls lined with bookcases and dust an inch thick. A small table sat in a far corner with two candles flickering in the darkness. Books lay scattered across the grimy surface with chaotic indifference. Edward ventured into the empty room, searching…

"Looking for me?"

Edward's entire body tensed even further as he heard the evil-soaked voice of Envy. He turned around to face the homunculus, and wasn't surprised to see Lust and Gluttony, holding onto Alphonse. Lust was looking seductively dangerous, as usual. She was leaning against the wall, absentmindedly running a finger up and down Al's armor. Gluttony leered up at Al, then focused his attention on Edward.

"Can I eat him, Lust? Can I? Please?" The fat homunculus pleaded.

Lust smiled evilly as she responded, "No, the metal might give you indigestion." She continued to stroke Al's side as she spoke. Edward narrowed his eyes as he asked, "What do you want? Why do you want Al?"

Envy grinned maliciously. "Why, we need him to make a Stone. We're one life away from having enough, and I thought it might be a good idea if your brother was it. Isn't that nice of us?"

Edward's eyes widened in surprise and anger before casually transmuting his automail into a small metal blade and saying, "Well. We have a problem, then, don't we?" He charged at Envy, who dodged the attack with ease.

"You'll have to try harder than that, half-pint." Envy sneered.

"Don't call me small!" Raged Edward. He stabbed at the Sin as he transformed into every person that Edward ever loved. Hughes, his mother, Al…

He managed to slash into Envy, leaving a huge gouge. He just smirked. Edward, frustrated by this, whipped out his secret weapon, the seven-point array that he had sewn into his gloves, specifically designed to drain a homunculus of its power. He clapped his hands and laid them directly onto Envy's chest. The Sin stopped, and started choking. He dropped to his knees as he began to throw up pieces of Red Stone. They spilled over his mouth and onto the floor like blood. Once they finally stopped, Envy shakily stood, glaring at Edward through his bangs.

"You…b-bastard…" He choked out.

Edward smirked as he allowed that emptiness fill his eyes, the emptiness that allowed him to kill these soulless demons. He lunged forward, the movement far too casual for its intentions, and speared the homunculus through the chest. Bright red blood gushed from the wound, sliding around the protruding metal. The shock on his face was almost comical as the spike slipped out of him. Edward grinned maliciously as the Sin fell dying at his feet.

Lust's face twisted in fury as she watched Envy fall. How dare this presumptuous brat kill him? She extended her long spiky fingers at the boy. It snagged his coat as he dodged her sudden attack, jumping back like a gymnastic monkey. She snarled back at Gluttony, "Kill that hunk of metal!"

Gluttony, as always, did as she demanded. He turned to Alphonse with an evil sneer and started towards him, saliva dripping. Al struggled against his bindings desperately, but was unsuccessful. Gluttony began gnawing through his unyielding armor.

Alphonse screamed, "Niisan! Niisan help me!"

Edward started at the sound of his brother calling for his assistance, and earned a nasty wound from Lust's nails. More than a little annoyed at this, he rebounded with a vicious counterattack, landing a deep slice across her pale throat. The blood flowed forth, but she ignored it as she lashed out at him again and again. All the while, Al was helpless against the ministrations of Gluttony.

Lust and Edward dodged each other's blows, like an intricate dance. His breath became ragged as she got in a few lucky shots. Finally, she lengthened her nails again, but Edward darted under her swipe and quickly clapped his hands. He pressed his hands against her waist, once again activating the circle on her. Her forward momentum caused her to stumble to her knees as Envy had done, and began to cough up the lives caught in the Stone.

Edward wasted no time gloating over her death; he slit her throat quickly and efficiently. He stopped for just a second to catch his breath, and he heard a earth-shattering scream. It made his heart jump into his throat. He whipped around to see Alphonse being eaten alive by that greedy creature.

Gluttony's teeth scraped at the edges of the blood seal and Alphonse shrieked, sending a shiver down to Edward's very _soul_.

And he stood motionless as that thing continued to eat his brother.

* * *

**(A/N: This is my very first WIP, so please tell me what's wrong, what's right, etc. Lol. Reviews are MUCH appreciated.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Edward stood, his arms hanging limply at his side, as he watched Gluttony tear into his little brother. He began to charge forward, but he was too late as the Sin bit into the blood seal and Alphonse gave one final scream as the one thing anchoring his soul to this world disappeared into the belly of the beast.

Edward's knees went weak, like jelly, as he saw his brother's light fade from the armor. His eyes became unfocused for a few seconds, but they suddenly went into hyperaware as he saw Gluttony continue to eat at Al.

Edward growled as he clapped his hands and pressed them into Gluttony's back. Gluttony stopped his ministrations and began the same process as the others. The Stone came up in globs, sticking to the floor in a gooey mess. When he finally stopped, the blonde took a ferocious glee in slowly sliding his blade through Gluttony, drawing out the pain as long as possible. He screamed in agony, the knife blade digging through internal organs and sensitive veins.

When Edward withdrew the metal, Gluttony slumped, and as he fell to the floor, he looked over to see his precious Lust lying in a pool of her own blood. Her mouth had fallen slightly open, and her features had a soft look to them. Through the internal bleeding, Gluttony managed to sputter, "L-Lust…my Lust…"

Then he fell silent, death overpowering his immense body.

Edward ignored all of this, choosing to go and kneel by his brother, now lost forever. He looked inside the armor, checking to see if any remnant of the blood seal remained. Nothing. The Sin had eaten completely, leaving nothing. He was always good at following Lust's commands. Edward fixed his arm and sat absolutely still, unsure of what to do. His brother, his rock, his _life_ was…gone. Snuffed out like a candle in the wind. A candle that Edward had depended on to burn so he could warm himself when the world became too cold and lonely. Now…he had…nothing. Just the cold to keep him company.

He lay huddled by the armor, and he stayed there until the rescue teams found them. He saw nothing, and he felt nothing. Finally, he felt a pinprick in his upper arm and a drowsiness that followed shortly afterwards. He welcomed the darkness, the nothingness…

He awoke in a hospital bed, an IV strapped in his arm. The cool white sheets that would have normally felt soft and comforting now felt like sandpaper. He had not forgotten the events of…well, exactly how long _had_ he been in the hospital? Did it really matter? Of course not. Nothing mattered…not without Al…

He didn't really hear anyone when they came in the room, it sounded garbled, like being submerged in water. When he had visitors, time sped up for him, like everything was being fast-forwarded and he couldn't control it. Only when the room was empty did it slow down, slower than normal time.

He did not speak as the hours drifted hazily by. He did not eat as people came and went. His eyes did not see as he lay in the bed, his ears did not hear. He was there, but he wasn't there.

He wasn't sure where he had gone, but the one thing he was absolutely sure of…

Was that he didn't ever want to come back.

* * *

**(A/N: Sorry this chap is shorter, but I was a little nervous about it. Next chap will be longer, promise! And BMF, I better see a new chap of LF pretty darn soon! lol -no pressure-)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Roy Mustang strode confidently into the psychiatric ward of the infirmary, closely accompanied by Havoc and Hawkeye. He had an air of casualness, his hands in his pocket, a look of cool indifference, which belied his true emotion at the moment. Inside he was shaking with fury and concern at the news that Edward had been forced to watch his brother, the only thing many believed to be the one thing chaining Edward to his sanity, be brutally and maliciously murdered. Edward could be unstable at times, and this would rock his world and send him hurtling off-course.

He wasn't sure what to expect as he confronted Edward for the first time, but he wasn't looking forward to it. Hawkeye's presence seemed to help. She exuded calm and order like an expensive perfume. He needed her, more than he might ever verbalize. Although the tightness around her eyes told more about her level of anxiety than he cared to admit.

He hesitated momentarily when he reached Edward's room. He had originally placed in short-term care, but with his history of instability, the psychiatric ward seemed the best place by far. Roy remembered musing whether this quarter of the hospital had sufficient restraints for Fullmetal. As he entered the room, all jokes departed as he saw the grieving prodigy. Edward's bed was propped up and his face was turned towards the open window. The wind blowing past the curtains and through his flaxen hair gave him an oddly poetic appearance. Gathering his best professional face, he strode into the room, bracing himself for what he may see.

Roy walked over to the bed and, for once, found himself at a loss for words. Edward still hadn't looked at him, and didn't show any inclination to. Hawkeye and Havoc stood silently behind him, unsure of what to say. Havoc bravely (or perhaps stupidly from the lack of smoke in his lungs due to the no smoking in the infirmary rule) stepped forward and said, "Hey, Chief. How ya feelin'?"

There was no response as the silence stretched on. As Mustang glanced back at Havoc, the chronic smoker shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, "Well, I've done all I can."

The Colonel raised an eyebrow at his ineffectiveness, then moved toward Edward. He stood at the edge of the bed now, close enough to see the teen's pale, sunken-in skin. The nurses had informed him that, due to his refusal to eat, they were now feeding him intravenously. His hair was down, and currently in a tangled snarl, because let's face it, if you're too depressed to eat, you sure don't care about the condition of your hair. Edward's head was still curved towards the window, and Roy found this silence unnerving. He had yet to be around Fullmetal for more than two minutes without him saying something, and never more than five minutes without a rant about how _not _short he is. He straightened his back, and his voice took on a professional quality, and he was immensely grateful to hear it did not quaver.

"Fullmetal, I-"

Edward finally spoke, cutting the older man off. "If I let you call me Edward, will you bring Al back?"

Mustang froze, not sure whether to cry or laugh from the absurdity of the question. He heard Havoc and Hawkeye's sharp breath behind him, obviously as stunned as he was. Edward's voice was cracked and strained, though he probably hadn't used it for awhile. Finally, he spoke, though he was still unsure of his own voice, "Fullmetal, I…I can't do that, and you know it."

Edward kept his head swiveled to the window, but Roy could see just enough of his face to know that several tears were sliding down his face. No sobs or hiccups emerged to follow them, just those quiet, painful tears. Roy's heart closed his throat, and he couldn't speak. Quickly, he did an about-face and strode past his subordinates, not stopping to see if they were following.

When the room was empty again, Edward began to sing under his breath, "What a beautiful time we had together, Now it's getting late and we must leave each other…"

* * *

Roy Mustang was a formidable man. He had seen things that might have made other men tremble. He was a soldier, and a leader. But none of these things registered in his mind as he leaned over the toilet and heaved up every thing in his stomach. The sharp, choking smell of vomit floated up and caressed the insides of his nose, wrenching forth more gagging. 

When he was finally through, he pulled away and pressed his back against the side of the bathroom stall. A small sheen of sweat covered his forehead as he tried to regain his bearings. He didn't think that seeing Fullmetal break apart like that would undo him so badly, but it had and he now had to deal with it. The cool floor under his palms felt good, refreshing and so he sat there for several moments, forgetting time altogether, focusing only on those silent tears trickling down Edward's face.

That is why he didn't hear when Hawkeye brazenly entered the men's room (And really, who was going to be stupid enough to question _Hawkeye?_) and knocked on the door of the stall.

"Sir? Are you alright?" She asked in her customary calm voice. He nodded to himself, and then remembered she couldn't see him through the closed door. He stood somewhat shakily, but then reestablished his balance. Mustang straightened the front of his crisp blue uniform, and stepped out of the tiny stall.

There was no trace on the First Lieutenant's face that any sort of emotional turmoil had gone on in the past ten minutes. Roy took strength in this and walked out of the bathroom, intent on making certain that Edward snapped out of this depression, and soon.

* * *

**(A/N: Well, how was this? I realize the story isn't progressing really well, but I'm working on that (and I always welcome ideas/suggestions)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Edward was dreaming. Soft light against closed eyes. Smell of tiger lilies and clean linen. He opened his eyes to see his mother and Alphonse, hanging laundry. They saw him and beckoned to him, and he ran towards them, smiling and laughing. He was almost there, and something grabbed his ankles and arms. He tried to pull loose, but the thing only grasped him tighter. He grunted and strained as hard as he could, but to no avail. It pulled him further and further back until he could barely see them. He shouted to them, but there was no sound. He turned around to see what had pulled him away, and came face to face with the stuff of nightmares. He screamed…

And then woke up.

The hospital room he was in, and had been in for

_(How long _has _it been now?)_

quite some time now, was quiet and undisturbed. When the nurse came in for her nightly rounds, he feigned sleep. The nurses were so sympathetic, even though he ignored their words, letting them roll over him like waves. Their voices felt like glass shards in his head, cutting and shredding.

He lay limply against the sheets, and looked out the window. He saw green grass and a train rumbling past, heading for wherever. His conscious mind cautiously reminded him that there _weren't_ any green fields or railroad tracks anywhere near his window. His mind whispered this, and yet he _saw_. He _saw_ the bright gleam of the moonlight bouncing off the gleaming surface, he _saw_ the big block letters on the side of the hulking machine. He could almost smell the freshly cut grass.

Edward shook his head, trying to rid himself of the images and taunting voice. He _knew_ his mind was playing tricks, he _knew_ and didn't care. Why should he? Who was going to care if he let his mind wander in the dark playground of forever? He had no mother, no father, no brother, these things had been ripped from him cruelly and maliciously.

He tilted his head up, to look at the IV machine beeping lowly, keeping time in this quiet hell. Why did Fate seem to have the cards stacked against him? What had he done to anger her this badly, to leave him alone in this world? She had filled his world with hard, ugly truths and wounds that never quite healed.

Sighing, he turned over on his side, unmindful of the pull of the IV needle in his hand. Night and day, sleep and consciousness, they all blended together anymore. And as he drifted off to sleep, he began to sing, over and over, "What a beautiful time we had together, Now it's getting late and we must leave each other…"

* * *

Roy Mustang stepped into his office, accepting the hot cup of coffee Hawkeye brought him with intense gratefulness. He hadn't slept well the night before, dreams of Edward had woken him up crying. He looked at his agenda for the day with a disinterested glance before sliding it to an inconspicuous corner of his desk. Hawkeye noticed (and glared) at this, but said nothing.

Instead, she placed his paperwork on his desk and asked in a quiet voice, "Are you going to visit Edward today?"

He jerked his head up, surprised at her intuition, but then realized that was rather stupid for him to assume she wouldn't correctly interpret his thoughts today when she had every other day they had worked together. He nodded as she walked away, already intending to go down to the infirmary on his lunch break. He wasn't sure if he could do Fullmetal any good, but he was going to try. He had to…for Alphonse.

He had not allowed himself to grieve for the younger Elric, save for a one-night drinking binge shortly after it happened. He felt his heart break a little to remember that Alphonse wasn't here to balance his brother out, for that was what he had done, all their life. Edward, he was sure, had probably always been on the high end of the seesaw, a roiling ball of blonde energy and light, whereas Alphonse had always been grounded, filled with just as much light as Edward, but in a less blinding way. It was like staring at the sun and the moon; the sun would burn your retinas to ashes, but the moon would simply smile and shine at you in a gentle, comforting.

Mustang shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts; they weren't doing him any good right now. When his lunch break rolled around, he left his office, an annoying jitter in his stomach from seeing Edward again.

He walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. For all he could see, Edward hadn't moved a single muscle since he left yesterday. His head was still turned towards the window. He stood next to Edward and spoke his name clearly.

He received no response. He studied Edward for a moment, silently debating on what to do. He reached an unspoken decision, and very gently picked Edward up. The prodigy gave no indication of even noticing, which bothered Roy. Fullmetal would _never_ allow himself to be picked up by anyone, much less his commanding officer. It showed Mustang just how far down the well Edward had fallen. He carried him to the small bathroom just to the side of the door.

Standing Edward up for a moment, he switched on the water to the shower. He knew the nurses had been giving him sponge baths, but Mustang believed that a good shower could do wonders. As he waited for the water to warm, he realized a second too late that he would have to undress Fullmetal. He briefly considered calling a nurse in, but decided against it. He began to untie the drawstring holding the back of the teen's hospital garb together.

It came undone easily, and the gown fell apart and off his shoulders. Roy started to blush, then quickly regain his composure. He would remain professional about this. Just one soldier helping another.

He slid the rest of it off his body and felt the blush come back full force when he saw Fullmetal had no boxers on as he had hoped. He did his best to ignore this and placed the blonde in the small shower. The warm water sprayed down on Fullmetal, but he still, throughout all this, had yet to even make a sign that he knew he had been moved. Mustang sighed, and despite getting his uniform wet, reached for a nearby bottle of shampoo. He squirted some onto his hands and began lathering up the boy's hair.

While making sure that the shampoo got everywhere and scrubbed off the funk in his tangled hair, Mustang found himself fascinated by the spun gold in his hands. It turned darker when wet, like dark honey. By the time he reached for the conditioner, he had grown used to the feel of Edward under his fingertips. The young prodigy had relaxed against Mustang, and seemed to be enjoying it. The Colonel couldn't be sure because Fullmetal had been reasonably pliant thus far anyway, due to his grief-induced apathy.

His hands trembled slightly when he grabbed the soap. He lathered that up as well and set to work washing the teen. Fullmetal's skin felt so smooth and soft under his fingertips, he was surprised to find. He was used to the brash boy full of defensive edges and thorny attitudes, so this softer, gentler Edward took him off guard.

Perhaps that was why he noticed how soft and sensual his lips looked, water beading off them.

He shook his head vehemently, willing those thoughts away. He was only a child, after all. And he was a _guy_. Roy Mustang was many things, but _gay_ was not one of them…

Or so he told himself.

Those occasional thoughts about Maes back during the war were irrelevant. He was under a lot of stress, nearly suicidal. They had no bearing whatsoever on this situation, here and now.

...Right?

He pushed these thoughts away again, concentrating only on getting him clean. Once that was finished, Mustang switched off the water and dried the boy off, skirting around certain sensitive areas.

As he got the boy situated back in bed, he thought that maybe Fullmetal looked a little better, at least physically. He stood at the edge of the bed, and asked very quietly, "Do you want to talk about...it?"

His voice hesitated at the last, and he winced, because he knew that Fullmetal would hear the hesitation, though he was so far gone Mustang still wondered if it were possible to bring him back.

The blonde answered with none of the fire, none of the _spirit_, which used to personify him, "Where's Alphonse? Has he gone to Mom?"

Roy, though unbelievably shocked, should in all honesty have seen this coming. He knew from his previous experience that Edward was losing a few screws in response to his brother's... death; he just didn't want to admit it. Mustang excused himself, not that it mattered, and left the room.

Yesterday he had had a plan. Now he wasn't sure what to do. He had barely pulled himself back from the dark abyss that got deeper every time he picked up that death-bearing pistol, how was he supposed to do it for Edward?

For the first time in a long time, as Roy Mustang cradled his head in his hands, he was forced to admit he didn't know what to do.

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**(A/N: So what do you think? Am I still heading in the right direction? Let me know!)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, Chap 5! I'm so excited! I just wanted to thank all my wonderful, wonderful reviewers! Jinn Twins(Still wanna be my beta? Job's your if you want it. ;3), Fading Wind, Roy-Fan-33, AirElemental101, EdwardScissorhands21, Excrutiate, cuylerjade, Ookami-Lupin, JaztheWolf, & Fruitie, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Your reviews make me one uber-happy authoress. Y'all rock! And now, on to the story!  
**

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Chapter 5:**

It was a week after the shower incident that the sleepwalking began. The nurses began to note that as they went to Mr. Elric's room for bed check, he was sometimes no where to be seen. Knowing they would suffer greatly if they lost an important State Alchemist such as he, they searched the entire wing relentlessly, not stopping until someone found him on the roof, looking upwards. They noticed he just went to the roof, but since the night staff also worried that he may one night decide to throw himself off the ledge, they began locking his door. This solution worked for a few days...before he alchemized the door open.

Needless to say, this terrified the nurses, so they called in his commanding officer. Colonel Roy Mustang, who was not at _all_ happy to be woken up at 1:00 in the morning, grumpily dressed and scurried over to the infirmary. When he arrived, they directed him to the roof, where Fullmetal sat on the edge with his legs dangling over the side. He quietly asked the young nurse beside him, why they hadn't simply woken him up. She replied just as softly that it was dangerous to awaken a sleepwalker. He gave a look of incredulity, but she was already pushing him forward, encouraging him to approach the patient.

Roy walked over to the boy, treading softly. When he was next to Edward, he sat on the edge, parallel to him. He had never said it before, but Mustang was..._uncomfortable_ with heights. He saw no reason for a building to be this high. He looked at Fullmetal-Edward, he quickly corrected himself. This person sitting in front of him was too soft, too..._vulnerable_ to be Fullmetal. Mustang sat there, unsure of what to say, so he looked at Edward. His eyes were glazed, glassy, and unfocused. The teen stared out over the sleeping city, apparently listening to the cars whizzing by below them.

As Roy grew more and more uncomfortable with the silence, he fidgeted before finally saying, "Edward? Are you okay?"

There was no response from the blonde as he slowly rose form his spot, stood on the ledge, and began to move forward. Roy, using catlike reflexes, deftly caught the falling boy, nearly falling off himself. As he held the prodigy in his arms, carefully standing up on the roof, he spoke Edward's name, shaking him.

Finally, he lost some of that glazed over look and Roy knew he was awake. There was no change in Edward's expression, no outraged swear-laden outburst about why the bastard was holding him, not even a narrowing of the eyes. Just that smooth, unfettered, blank look.

Mustang picked him up bridal style and carried him back to his room, laying him down gently, as though he were fragile china, instead of a broken little boy. He stood over the hospital bed, nodding mutely as the nurse came in and told him he really ought to leave now so they could take care of him. He winced slightly when he saw the restraints they slipped over his slim wrists. He turned and left the room, not sparing a backwards glance for the teen who had just tried to kill himself a moment ago.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

The next day, Roy quietly asked Lieutenant Hawkeye to make Fullmetal an appointment with a local psychiatrist as soon as possible. She told him that the doctor had an opening for that afternoon at 2:30. He agreed and made arrangements to escort Edward to the office. When he arrived at the infirmary to pick him up, he saw that they had dressed him in his old clothes, the black and vibrant red contrasting cruelly with his pale waxy skin. He had lost serious weight, so the fabric hung off him like he was wearing an older sibling's hand-me-downs.

The nurses looked at the Colonel amazed; they had barely been able to get him up long enough to dress him like he had been a rag doll. To see him walk, however stumblingly, was quite a sight. The two men walked carefully to the waiting car, trying not to attract too much attention. On the way to the doctor's office, Roy caught himself looking over at the emaciated youth. Edward simply sat there, his head turned to face outside the window. He sang under his breath, "What a beautiful time we had together, Now it's getting late and we must leave each other…"

When it was time for the doctor to see them, they walked slowly to the office. The man's name was Doctor Stephen Walker, and he had a kind warmth to him. His hair was black, though it was graying at the temples, and chocolate-colored eyes were hidden behind thin glasses. They sat down in the two straight-backed chairs in front of his desk, watching the doctor look through Edward's file.

When Doctor Walker finally looked up, he took in Edward's worn appearance, his gaunt body, his pale skin. What caught his attention, though, were Edward's eyes. They looked…lost. He had only seen that look a few times in his forty-some years of treating his patients. He had found that you couldn't fake that look, that utterly empty gaze. Doctor Walker folded his hands and laid them on the desk as he turned his attention to the Colonel. He asked, "You say he's not eating, sleeping excessively, sleepwalking, exhibiting suicidal behavior, and showing a general disinterest in life. Is that all correct?"

Mustang nodded, hoping the worry that was playing cat's cradle with his intestines wasn't apparent on his face. The doctor nodded with him, then asked would he mind leaving so he could talk to Edward; 'talk' being codeword for evaluate, Roy thought randomly. Mustang bowed and left the room, hoping Edward would be able to be helped by this man, knowing in his heart that it would take something drastic to bring the boy back now.

Doctor Walker steepled his fingers and leaned his chin on them, appraising his latest patient. He tilted his head to the side slightly as he said in a soft tone, "Edward? Edward, can you hear me?" When he received no response, he tried again in a more commanding tone of voice. When he got still no sign that the person sitting in front of him was even awake, he came around to the front of the desk and leaned back on it.

"Edward, how are you feeling?" He sighed and adjusted the glasses on his face. "What about your brother?"

Nothing. Not even a single twitch. Doctor Walker's warm brown eyes narrowed in concern. He placed his hands on Edward's bony shoulders, trying to see how he would react to touch. The boy never moved an inch. Edward's face was tilted down, making it look like he was staring at his wrists. His shaggy, unkempt bangs fell forward, masking his eyes. Doctor Walker asked gently, "Edward, will you please talk to me?" For the first time since they entered the room, Edward moved of his own volition. He raised his head and simply looked at the doctor.

Doctor Walker found that looking sort of _at_ his eyes was _nothing_ compared to looking _into_ them. It took every inch of his training to not run from the room screaming. It was like seeing…a doll. An empty, lifeless thing. He asked Edward to please excuse him while he stepped out for a moment, not that it mattered much to Edward, and he walked out into the hallway. He took several deep breaths, trying to reassert himself. He beckoned to Mustang, ushering him to an empty examining rooms so they could talk privately.

"Colonel…I'm going to be blunt. That boy is suffering from severe shock. To look at him…it's like…"

"…Like seeing a person with the soul ripped out." Mustang finished quietly. The doctor started at this observation, noting that the Colonel was paying more attention than he had given him credit for. "Yes, just like that. I'm worried about his health. I know he's under the care of competent nurses and doctors, but they're afraid he'll use his alchemy against him when he's sleepwalking. Does he have any family he can stay with?"

Mustang answered, "He has family in the East, but it's just too far for them to come to take care of him. They would say yes, I have no doubt, but I hate to impose on them like that."

The doctor fixed him with a stern gaze as he said, "Colonel, you had better start imposing, because you and I both know that if he stays in the hospital, he'll stay in shock and become a mental vegetable."

Roy Mustang suddenly had an image of Fullmetal, puzzling over an alchemy text. His eyes narrowed in concentration, his tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly. Then, he saw the way the boy's face would just _light up_ when he had finally figured it out. The thought of not seeing that, of not seeing that _light_, disturbed him greatly. Perhaps that was why he, without thinking about it, snapped his head up and said, "I'll take him."

**(A/N: Finally! Chap is up! I know, MUCH too long between chaps, gomen, gomen. I just got back to VA from CT, so it's been a little hectic around here. I realized I didn't exactly explain the song Edward sings under his breath. It's meant to be a song that their mother sang to him and Al when they were little kids. Just showing that he's slipping further away, I suppose. And, I know this chap is a cliffy, I'll get to writing the next one, promise!)  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

The doctor's surprise was thinly veiled as he looked at the man before him incredulously. "You'll what?" Mustang looked surprised himself, but quickly recovered before answering, "Yes. I know more about him than you do, it's convenient, and…I'm worried about him, Doctor." Roy ended softly.

Doctor Walker's coffee-colored eyes softened at the last, seeing that this man did care for the boy. He had read in his file about the young prodigy's past, and it seemed that Roy Mustang had played a rather large part in the Elrics' life in the last couple of years. He looked Mustang squarely in the eye as he asked, "Are you sure, soldier? I mean, do you realize what helping him will mean?"

Colonel Roy Mustang straightened his shoulders and fixed his midnight gaze on the aging physician. He answered in a level, calm voice, "Yes sir, I do."

The concerned doctor took in the colonel's apparent determination to care for his sick subordinate. Satisfied with the resolve he saw in Mustang, he nodded and said, "Alright. We'll try it for a month. If there is any serious deterioration in his condition, we'll find other arrangements immediately, alright with you, soldier?"

Mustang agreed, and was given instructions on how to take care of him at home. He had to take home quite a lot of hospital equipment, since Edward still was not eating on his own. Edward's face never changed even though he had to have seen he was not going back to the hospital, and he never even looked curious when they walked up to Roy's front door, not that Roy expected him to. All through the ride from the doctor's office Roy mentally cursed himself for making such a rash decision. He obviously hadn't thought this through; he sometimes forgot to take care of himself, how was he supposed to care for Edward?

Looking over to his right, he saw the boy sitting next to him. He was humming quietly. It sounded like the same tune he had heard Edward sing before. Roy wondered idly what song it was, then turned his concentration on getting home.

'_Home is just a four letter word.'_ Mustang thought irrationally. They pulled into the driveway, and he led Edward into the house, down the hallway into the spare bedroom. The boy sat down on the corner of the bed, and paid no mind to Roy bringing in his few belongings and the medical accoutrements he had been sent with. Edward did not glance around the room, which was painted a soothing blue-gray, a little like the sky is just before the sun begins to rise and paint the world with oranges, reds, and yellows. The decorations were sparse; a radio on the nightstand, an empty vase sat on the chest of drawers, which was a magnificent mahogany color, a lamp next to the radio, a mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door, and a beautiful watercolor painting of a young woman with long flowing blonde hair dressed in a cornflower-colored dress standing in a field of violets, her gaze directed at something beyond the frame of the picture. Her eyes were an amazingly bright blue, and they conveyed sadness, longing, and something that was happiness turned sour and rancid.

The picture was beautiful and haunting, and it was positioned across from the bed, so that when you were lying in bed, it was in your direct line of vision. Mustang's guest room was perfect; elegant and comforting yet was bare enough to discourage extended visits from unwelcome guests.

When the car was finally unpacked and the equipment set up, Roy stood at the door to the room, suddenly slightly uncomfortable. He was unsure of what to say to the boy, so he simply said, "If you need anything, Edward…" Here he trailed off, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. With the door closed, he didn't hear Edward's very quiet murmur of, "I need Al, but you can't give that to me…"

The first few days of this tentative relationship went a little awkwardly, but Mustang trudged forward. Edward was quite unresponsive to Roy, showing no improvement, but the older man tried to keep reminding himself that it wasn't going to be an overnight process, that it was going to take time and patience, cost him tears, sweat, and blood. The interesting thing was that this idea did not bother Mustang, and he found himself quite anxious to get home most days to see Edward. After living alone for all this time, he realized it was kind of nice to have someone at home when you got there, even if said someone was only a small step above a vegetable.

The routine became as such; in the morning, Roy would fix breakfast for himself and Edward, feeding the boy if need be. He thought that the IV wasn't really helping, only giving him no incentive to get any better. Sometimes he had to force-feed Edward, and make him chew the food, and swallow the drink.

Then, he would proceed to work, where he would still get very little done, but simply because he found himself worried about what Edward might do while he was gone. What if he jumped out of his bedroom window, a two-story drop? What if he wandered into the kitchen and found some sharp knives? What if he found Roy's sleeping pills he took every so often when nightmares of fire and screams couldn't be drowned out by the liquor? 'What if, what if, what if, what if' ran through his head all day until the end of the day where he was a complete wreck and Hawkeye looked at him with serious consideration of letting him off for the day.

He would rush to his home to run up the stairs only to _slowly_ open the door and look in on his ward, who would either be sleeping or staring at the painting of the woman. His heart would slow, his breathing would regulate, and he would walk downstairs to fix them both some supper. He didn't have to worry about Edward's lunch, since he had a nurse come in and feed him so he didn't miss any work (at Hawkeye's suggestion).

When dinner was ready, Mustang had taken to eating in Edward's room, and talking to him about his day. At first he found it disconcerting to speak to someone who didn't respond and who didn't look at him, but eventually he grew accustomed to it. He came to enjoy talking to Edward, and he would brush his hair in the evenings, to keep it from tangling, he told himself. It wouldn't do to have that gorgeous blonde mane become snarled and tangled. He read alchemy texts to the teen, but found he got an actual response when he read novels, mystery novels, to be exact. Edward would turn his head and look at Roy.

The first time it happened, Roy nearly dropped the book. He had barely seen the boy move of his own accord twice since Alphonse had died. And then, Roy _smiled_ into those empty yellow orbs, and was certain that he saw a flicker of what used to inhabit this shell. That's what Edward was anymore, really, Roy knew. Nothing more than an empty husk, devoid of anything, which was scarier than anything else he had experienced, because what do you fill that empty space in a person's soul with?

**(A/N: I know this one isn't as good as it might have been, but I _swear_ the next chapter will be much better...I hope...lol. And I am so so so so so happy with all your reviews, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! They really inspire me. ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

Edward was half asleep, half awake. His eyes were unfocused and dilated, and he wasn't thinking of anything in particular, more like thinking of a million and one memories he had stored away in his heart all at once, whipping by faster and faster until they were just a blur of color and sound. He found himself floating towards consciousness, and that was quite accurate, because he hadn't made himself _do_ anything since…

No.

He wouldn't think of that. Not now. Maybe he would later, but not now. He stopped his ascent into consciousness, just hovering on the brink of some undefined ledge he had been visiting quite a bit as of late. He was detached from his body, hanging by a thin gossamer thread that frayed more each minute he was alone.

'_But you _haven't_ been alone too much lately, have you?'_ His mind whispered with a calm curiosity that sounded eerily like…

Well. That wasn't the important thing to focus on. What _was_ important was that the voice was absolutely correct. The Colonel was there with him, wasn't he? The Colonel had _always_ been there with him, hadn't he? Watching out for him, taking care of him,

Protecting him. 

This realization caused his eyes to widen, although it was more the truth of the insight that surprised him than anything else. Mustang really _had_ been there all this time, hadn't he?

He had noticed a softer side to the stony bastard he hadn't seen before, hadn't been allowed to see. He had even seen him _smile._ Edward hadn't been sure it was possible. Edward found he had liked that smile; he hadn't missed Alphonse quite as much in those brief moments. The guilt that had struck him later had been horrible, ripping through him with an almost vicious assertiveness. Assuming guilt, even for things he wasn't responsible for, had become a commonplace habit in the years since the failed transmutation, and he had had no reason to change it. As long as he had Al, everything else could wait. All that mattered was Al and his happiness, even at the cost of his own. But now that he no longer had Alphonse, there was a hole in his life, his heart, his _soul_.

'But…you know what to do about that, don't you?' His mind softly spoke to him. 'What is the logical solution to the problem? When you have a space, a gap, in the equation, what do you do to it?' 

"Fill it." Edward's voice was hoarse, scratchy from disuse. His answer was accurate, of course. It was logical, precise, everything his life had been before…

But fill it with what? What could be used to replace Alphonse? His immediate gut reaction was nothing, nothing could replace his brother, _ever._ But he knew in his head, and his hear, that he couldn't simply live like this, wasting away to nothing.

With a determined spark in his eye, he rose and stepped shakily out of his bed. His legs were weak, wobbly sticks that seemed barely able to hold him. His clothes, a large t-shirt and baggy pajama bottoms, hung loosely on his small frame. He walked slowly to the window, just in time to see the colonel's car pull up into the driveway. Edward half-smirked to think of the expression on the bastard's face when he saw the blonde alchemist up and about. The movement felt strange and foreign, but the true shock appeared when he turned and saw the oval-shaped mirror hanging on the wall that held his reflection. He hadn't seen himself in seven months. He was…

_Dead._

His skin was pale and sallow, his cheeks sunken in and hollow, his hair hung limp and dull, and his eyes…God his eyes…

He supposed, as he raised a hand to touch his face gingerly, that he had experienced a kind of death these past months. An involuntary coma, of sorts. His thoughts immediately traced back to the source of all this pain, this _numbness_, and he felt his knees give out as sobs began to pour from his mouth, his very _soul_. He dropped to the floor and buried his face in his cold hands, his entire body trembling with every pent-up emotion that he hadn't felt in so long. Everything, anger, grief, sadness, confusion, nostalgia, came flowing from him in loud, hiccupping moans. Edward wailed all this to the heavens…

And that was just about the time Roy Mustang stepped into the room.

* * *

**(A/N: Hi all! I'm SOOO Sorry that it's taken me so long to update, I've had so much to deal with lately, schoolwork, license, getting a job...MY FIANCEE'! Yes, I am now engaged, so please forgive me for being so scatterbrained and for this chapter being so short(like Ed, lol). I hope you all like this chap, and will want to see how it goes:)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

Roy had come home just after four in the afternoon, about half an hour earlier than normal because somehow he had finished up early (he suspected his subordinates had a little something to do with this), and decided to go check on Edward. The sight that met him was one for the record books; he had never heard such…_sorrow_ in someone's tears. He immediately rushed forward to grab the youth; he was trembling, no, _shaking_ violently in his overflow of grief. Roy wrapped his arms around him and held on tight, occasionally whispering in his ear that it was okay, he was going to be alright, to just let it out, let it all _out_.

Soon the blonde turned to clutch at Roy, clinging to him for dear life, his tears soaking through the bright blue uniform until it was drenched. Eventually, the tears began to slow, and the shaking began to subside. Edward raised his splotchy, tear-soaked face up and looked at Roy, who was looking at him carefully, probably watching to see if another flood was about to break through. Edward's tears, for today at least, were done, however. Slowly, so slowly, Roy raised his hand to wipe away the tears still residing on Edward's cheeks. At the first stroke, Edward's eyes closed in something close to bliss, and he leaned into the contact. It had been so _long_ since he had had any semblance of human touch, especially since Alphonse had died. Edward's fingers clutched even tighter at Roy, who wrapped his arms around the clingy youth. After a moment, Roy took a chance and whispered against Edward's ear, "You don't have to be alone anymore…I know I can't replace him, but at least let me be here for you."

Edward relaxed his fingers marginally and, looking up at Roy through dark lashes, leaned up hesitantly to lay a very soft kiss on his lips. Mustang, thoroughly surprised, didn't respond at first, but quickly recovered and began to press gently against the warm lips. The exchange became more heated, and when they broke apart for a moment, Roy murmured against Edward's lips, "Edward…"

The blonde stiffened, the tone of Roy's voice bringing him up cold. All at once he wasn't in Roy Mustang's arms, he was in Alphonse Elric's, warm in their bed as children. Al would quite frequently crawl into bed with his brother, and murmur his thanks in that same comfortable breathy quality. The harsh reminder that his brother was dead and it was all Edward's fault quickly squashed that memory.

His face went blank with startling speed, and he slumped backwards in Mustang's arms. Roy, uneasy with the turn of events, asked quietly, "Edward? Edward, are you alright?" When he received no response, he sighed with frustration at his inability to help his ward and picked him up and laid him in the bed. After Edward slipped back to sleep, Roy left the room and called Hawkeye, asking her to come over.

His loyal First Lieutenant arrived with her usual promptness, and Mustang ushered her into the living room where he poured them both a glass of bourbon on the rocks. She accepted the glass absentmindedly, concerned about this impromptu visit. Roy sat down beside her and conveyed to her the events of that afternoon. Riza listened patiently, her eyes widening only slightly when he got to the part of them kissing. After Roy was finished, he emptied his glass and got up to refill it while Hawkeye processed the tale she had just been told. She took a small sip of her drink before placing it on the coffee table in front of her. She had mentally begun to count the times he had called her to ask for her input on a particular situation. The man would never have made it to the position he was in now if it weren't for her and her calming effect on him. They never had to worry about losing that, she knew Roy preferred men, and while she enjoyed men, she also had a taste for women. The romance factor that may have arisen anyway never came up, their friendship was far too strong for that. So when he asked for her help like this, she felt flattered that he called her and no one else.

"Roy, I think that perhaps taking it slow is the best thing. Let him warm back up to you. From what you told me, it sounds as though you hit a sensitive nerve when you called his name. It also sounds like you touched a part of him that has been lost these past seven months. Try to recapture that." She finished, calmly taking another sip of her drink.

The raven-haired colonel stared into his amber beverage, tipping the glass to hear the ice tinkling against its barrier. A half smirk drew across his face, cockiness overlying his anxiety. Looking up, he stated slowly, "So…it's a challenge, is it? Tact and a gentle balance of pushing forward but not _too_ forward _too_ fast. Yeah…I think I'm up for that."

Riza smiled in spite of herself, but her countenance drew stern again as she responded, "Be glib if you need to be, but remember, this is _not_ a game. This is his _life_, his _sanity_, and you need to be mindful of that."

Roy looked gravely into Hawkeye's wine-coloured eyes and said, "Trust me, Lieutenant, I want this badly, and I have no intention of treating it blithely. I _will_ help him, regardless of my feelings for him."


End file.
